Uh…why?
Grayson
Because I had a meeting with the vampire Elders. Saw Ashton and Kain meeting with them.
What?!? Shock thunders through me as I read through the text—once, twice, three times.
Ethan
That’s impossible. Kain is in prison.
Grayson
Trust me. He’s not. He’s out, and he’s working with Ashton. And they’re working with the vampires.
Ethan
The same vampires who attacked us?!? Ashton would NEVER do that.
Grayson
I don’t give a shit what he would or would not do. I just need to know where Izzy is. Is she with him?
Ethan
Why would she be with him willingly? She hates him.
Besides, if Ashton wanted to hurt Izzy, then he would’ve done so in the forest, right? Not that he would. I know my packmate, and despite what he says, he’s a softie at heart and as head over heels as the rest of us, even if he doesn’t know it yet.
Grayson
I can’t get ahold of her. She’s not at the house.
Ethan
And why would you assume she’s with Ashton?
There’s a beat, and at first, I think he’s not going to respond. Then my phone pings.
Grayson
When I couldn’t find her, I noticed her MacBook on her desk. Her messages there are connected to her phone. I didn’t snoop, but I saw she got a message from Ashton asking to meet.
Fuck.
Maybe Ashton simply wants to bury the hatchet? Befriend her? Apologize for his past behavior? Even as I think that, I remember the way he glared at her when she arrived at the clearing. There was pure, unencumbered hatred emanating from his eyes. I thought he was faking then, putting on a front designed to scare her away, but now…
“Fuck.” I throw off the covers and grab the first pair of jeans I can find, clumsily pulling them up.
I forgo a shirt as I race down the hall towards Emery’s room. When I arrive, I pound my fist on the door, then I barge in before he can grant me permission.
“Dude? What the fuck?” The first thing I—unfortunately—see is my brother’s bare ass.
Unlike me, who prefers to sleep in my boxers, Emery likes to go nude.
“Get up. Get dressed.” I reach into his laundry bin and throw a pair of jeans at his face.
He blinks at me wordlessly, his short hair tousled and his eyes glazed.
